Angel Grove Net

My therapist HAS helped me with quite a lot of things and I've come to the realization, this week, that my childhood was dysfunctional and abusive, that I had a right to be happy and healthy and normal that was denied to me, and that despite the fact that Courfeyrac that I know people who have had worse does not invalidate my experiences at all. I had the right to all of those things and it was denied to me and it's all right for me to discuss this fact, and to talk about my experiences with the gravity and respect that they deserve.

I feel oddly freer, and better, than I have in years. Things are still rather awkward and terrible and messed up, but knowing I had that right, that I still am allowed to be happy and well... it helps me all the same somehow. It's like it's peace. Or something like it.

Only, could I please speak to some of the gays here? Some things about my daughter's life and death and my apparent role in the latter aren't adding up for me. Would anyone mind helping me attempt to sort that?

WARNING FOR SUICIDE DISCUSSION IN COMMENTS

I...think I might have giftwrapped my pills.

...And the bag with my coat and the puked on scrubs from earlier today.

...And possibly the remote control.

How DID this part of the party execution fall to the man who just got off a 72 hour shift again?

Also, when is it your place to medically interfere in someone else's life when you aren't THEIR doctor but are *A* doctor? Because things are NOT working and require intervention yet again. Am I allowed to deliver it? When do friendship and professionalism cross?

It's been one Hell of a week at the children's hospital and I, for one, am ready for my two days off the schedule to catch up on my sleep and maybe look at getting one of those things called a social life apart from my best friends anyway.

Anyone up for a drink or dinner or something normal adults do? I could really use the break and might even be fun conversation. For a while anyway.

I said it last year, and I'll say it this year, since the world hasn't gotten the message just yet and it's irritating as all Hell. If I'm to stay in a place where Halloween exists, I'd appreciate not seeing "G*psy costumes" being marketed or played to stereotypes.

I could not talk about her much at home, although Maman was wonderful and talented and loving and absolutely beautiful, because of what society was like, and my acceptance as a doctor was already somewhat challenged, but she certainly was NOT a costume, did not tell fortunes or dance, and was certainly no...

My maman was no costume. I am not a costume. And I continue to be offended by the implications otherwise. Perhaps I can do nothing about this, but how I wish that I could, all the same.

I guess I'm not going anywhere. If this isn't the afterlife, at least it's another chance.

Technically, I am dictating this to Alexandre, who is giving me incredibly displeased looks because I am not sleeping like I am supposed to be doing, and instead am trying his patience, even though he taught me nearly everything I know, and is probably the only person that I know who has any common sense and I am deeply trying his patien...

Stop it, Chastain, I mean it...

Now I am glaring at him, or trying to without my spectacles on. He...

Sorry about that. I was attempting to grab my phone away even though I should not be trying to use it just now, anyway, because my long suffering friend is going to tell the Thenardier sisters some incredibly amusing stories of my love life if I...

awhfwgeahg

...I just threw the pillow at him, sorry. Apparently I am feeling better, anyway, if I can be this cranky an hour after waking up from my nine day haze of sleep and pain meds.

(He should be going home in another two or three days, once they are sure they have a cause and some prevention mechanisms in place for keeping this from happening again. His doctors have a few ideas they want to check for, and some areas in which they think treatment could be improved. I imagine we'll keep updating soon.

Courfeyrac, Enjolras, you are both forbidden from showing up until tomorrow after breakfast when I have to go in. I mean it. -A.C)

...And then I put my ex-lover into the hospital...

( (Possible Hospital, Illness Triggers) )

As one can see, today's not been the best of days at all, really.

So, it is October, and I am lead to believe that in this day and age, some of you have an upcoming major holiday based on the All Hallows traditions, and that La Toussaint and La Fête des Morts. I am not certain why the change, but, at any rate, I've been told that I should plan a costume of some sort because it will be fun for the children to see their doctors in costume.

All of this is well and good, and far be it from me to question long upstanding traditions, but can we talk for a moment about some of the choices of costume offered by the internet?

"Gypsy" costumes? Who in the Hell decided that this was a good, smart or even remotely acceptable costume idea? I certainly know what I shall not be wearing, thank you very much.


There are still times this world makes me ill beyond belief.

Right, I do realize that it is not the fault of anyone here, who I am going to complain to now, but this wave of whatever the hell this is a wave of, has managed to get far, far out of control. Things are going so badly at this point that a good half of the children on the ward are terrified, and the other half have been brought in due to things like this ridiculous 'Nessie' creature, and the like. Perhaps not those specifically, but if I have to attempt to comfort another child who has been traumatized by all of this, I may just go mad.

Really. Invading is one thing, I suppose, but when children are involved, it is simply going too far.

That said, if anyone is able to provide something like security while we are stitching and casting, and splinting, and monitoring for concessions, the Necker in Paris could rather use the help.

Well..... my first time with another man was a little awkward... but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I think I definitely made the right decision in coming out.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a comfortable blanket, bedtime story, and a few well placed forehead kisses have every bit of a profound effect on boys in their twenties as they do on much younger children. If anyone is missing Monsieur Pontmercy, Bahorel and I would like to recommend he stay until the morning with our other two.

...this is when it would be wrong to share the photographs we've taken, wouldn't it?

I know I do this often, but it just helps me find an outlet for my life and everything going on. ONLY THE GOOD STUFF! You guys don't need anymore drama than is already happening.
( Cut for long )

When it comes to past regrets, what exactly does one do with them? When it comes to past loves who have been left behind, how DO you reconcile yourself to the fact that they have managed to not only find someone else, but are entirely happy without you?

I never asked for anyone to mourn forever, or anything of the sort, I never expected we would LAST forever. But seeing the wedding bans printed for my own lost love in the newspaper makes me...

I don't know. Some sort of melancholy for the past,perhaps? This understanding and reminder once again that few things last forever, and the ones that do are to be cherished all the more because of it? Some past regrets that I could not live to keep on loving him, in a France that allows for such a thing as two gentlemen to love each other?

...I wish that there was something I was certain of in all of this, and that I could be happy for a man who more than deserves it, but the selfish part of me is crying to win him back, to actually "crash" their wedding and proclaim everything I still feel for him.

I am not going to do it, but damned if I wish I had the courage and the nerve to manage that.

Well, now that things are back to normal in every way possible, and I am no longer in the body of my closest friend, nor actively dying, what DOES one do as far as finding work here? I am a surgeon at the children's hospital, or was one, anyway, and I am quite open to possibilities of finding anything else to do.

Michel tells me I'd better introduce myself as well, as I do not seem to have done that, my apologies. My name is Alexandre Chastain and the last thing I knew before I came here was that it was 1830 and we were winning the July Revolution in Paris.

I'm told that changed quite quickly after I was dead, that the revolution was, in fact, stolen, and a second attempt two years later was smaller and ended on a rather bad note for those on the barricades, which proves, I guess, that we cannot have everything.

Ending here seems to be not so bad an end, I guess, though, as long as I can find something to do. Any suggestions are quite welcomed now.

Now that I am able to go home, it does bear asking here, of all places, I suppose. How might one procure employment in this world and time? In the last life, in the last world, I suppose is more accurate, I was a surgeon and supervised interns at the Necker Hospital for Children. In this one...

It is hard to know, truly, where I might begin.

What in all the world has happened to me? And to Paris, to the barricades? The last I'd known it, the people were nearing victory, and I was dying. ( TW: Very understandable suicidal ideation )